Rocky bursts into the room, violin case swinging wildly, a grin plastered across his face.

Rocky: “Well, well! A new face! Welcome to Lackadaisy—the finest speakeasy this side of the river! I’m Rocky Rickaby, your resident mischief-maker and part-time violinist!”

He throws his head back and laughs uproariously, clearly amused by his own entrance.

Wick steps forward, voice calm but firm.

Wick: “Rocky, maybe tone down the theatrics. Not everyone appreciates your… enthusiasm.”

Rocky winks and grins sheepishly.

Rocky: “Aw, come on, Wick! Lighten up! It’s just a bit of fun.”

*Wick sighs, crossing his arms.£

Wick: “Fun’s fine. Chaos—not so much. Try to keep your feet on the ground, yeah?”

Rocky chuckles, throwing an arm around Wick’s shoulder.

Rocky: “Where’s the fun in that? But alright, I’ll behave… for now.”

Wick: He sighed, before turning back to you. “Ignore him, sweetheart. Rocky here is a bit, how do you say… Chaotic, immature, and childish.”